


Kissed By Fire

by leobrat



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Begging, Breast Worship, Cunnilingus, F/F, Kissing, Lesbian Sex, Light BDSM, Making Out, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Threesome - F/F/F, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-10 16:29:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15953189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leobrat/pseuds/leobrat
Summary: “Being kissed by a redhead is kissed by fire, see.”“So there’s no going back?” Sansa’s whisper is so quiet, but she feels a warmth in her, from the inside out and her mouth turns up at the corners. “Once you’ve been kissed by fire?”“I’m afraid not,” Ygritte kisses her mouth then.  “Like I said, I think it will always be like this for us, sweet girl.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lifeofsnark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeofsnark/gifts).



> This is an alternate universe that I have quite a bit written of, written in bits and pieces and all out of order. I'm borrowing GoT characters but this truly has pretty much nothing to do with the world of GoT/ASoIaF. Sansa and Ygritte are college students in a committed relationship, but they have several other partners (especially Sansa), including men. Not sure when I will be adding more, but please just know there is A LOT of kinky fuckery in here and also lots of gloopy, gluttonous emotion.

As the weather gets warmer, one weekend Ygritte convinces Sansa to ditch class and head to the beach. They use fake id’s to get into the boardwalk bars and Ygritte won $300 in bets at darts. They find a motel room for the night with a tiny deck overlooking the shore and sit outside drinking rum mixed with lemonade out of paper cups.

Away from school, away from gossip and judgment, Sansa has thrown caution to the wind and it was _her_ who pulls Ygritte into her lap. Ygritte gasps in surprise and then grins, pure Cheshire cat and leans in and nips Sansa’s bottom lip.

Sansa is getting totally lost in Ygritte’s hair tugs and the persistent pressure of her grinding down into her lap when she is broken out of her reverie by a few loser frat boys catcalling them from the streets.

Ygritte shouts for them to fuck off and then curses some more but Sansa has already retreated inside, her face as red as her hair. Ygritte follows her in, sliding the door closed behind them and sits on the bed next to her, pulling Sansa in her arms and stroking her hair. As many times as she’s made Sansa come with fingers and tongue, sometimes Ygritte could be as tender as a sister.

“Don’t pay them any mind, my love,” she murmurs against Sansa’s hair. “They’re nasty little shits who don’t deserve a second thought from the likes of you.”

Ygritte strokes an elegant finger down Sansa’s cheek, and brings her in for a kiss, more tender than what she’d given on the porch. She pulls back with a smile. “Can I try something with you? You’ll like it, I promise. If you don’t, I’ll stop.”

Something new. Something new with Ygritte was always...something.

Sansa gives the tiniest of nods. She always trusts her.

Ygritte eases her back onto the bed. Her kisses are as tender as before but there is something else, there is and intensity underneath. Sansa had been getting plenty hot and bothered out in the sticky heat, unseasonably warm, and is on a hair trigger, right on the edge again.

Sansa’s sundress is hitched up around her waist and Ygritte is pulling the straps down, giving one long suck to a taut nipple. “I love that you can go braless.” Sansa whimpers as Ygritte bends over her again, tongue flicking back and forth. “What is it, love? You want to see me too?”

Ygritte’s smile is pure, joyful sin as she pulls her tank top over her head. She is _gorgeous_. Sansa always wonders that she chose _her_ , Sansa who was always so quiet and good to the point of boring.

Ygritte leans back over her, kissing under her jaw, her collarbone while her hand ventured lower, parting Sansa’s thighs and sinking in two fingers without preamble. Sansa groans at the fullness and Ygritte curls her fingers inside. “So wet for me already,” she purrs in her ear. “Good girl.”

She _is_ wet. Because this is so good, being here with her girl, two fingers deep in her pussy and a thumb brushing gently across her clit. Ygritte could make her come in thirty seconds like this. But she had said she wanted to _try_ something…

Ygritte’s hand pulls away before she can come and Sansa moans in frustration. Ygritte traces her lips with her fingers. “See how sweet you are? My sweet girl.” Sansa sucks in one, two, three fingers. This isn’t new either. The first time Ygritte fingered her, she gave her a taste afterwards. Sansa tasted her own pussy before she tasted her girlfriend’s. 

Fingers leave her mouth, back down below. A third finger now. It feels tighter but wonderful and Ygritte leans higher over her, her pink nipple level with Sansa’s mouth and she sticks it in hungrily, on a whine. “Are you okay, my sweet girl? Is this too much for you?” Thumb more insistent on her clit now, quickening her blood. Sansa shakes her head, eyes closed, wanting to get lost in the pleasure of it, wanting her whole world to be lying in Ygritte’s arms, her thumb never ceasing over her clit.

“Could you take more?”

 _Oh_.

Sansa’s eyes open and Ygritte is hazy-eyed with lust. Ygritte curls her fingers again so Sansa can feel how full she already is and she groans. She’s so close. Yes, yes, she can take more, she can take all of it, all that Ygritte has to give. She nods again. 

“Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.” Ygritte is teasing her again, but Sansa knows she will take care of her. She doesn’t have to be afraid, not here.

“All of it.”

“What was that?” 

Ygritte’s hand begins to withdraw again, and Sansa groans in desperation. “All of it, give me all of it, please!”

It’s tight. It’s so beyond tight and hot and Ygritte moves slowly, back and forth, working her clit with the other hand now and praising her and instructing her ( _play with your nipples, sweet girl, yes, just like that, you’re so beautiful baby, oh look at you all spread out for me, such a good girl…_ ) and Sansa’s heart stops for a second when she feels herself stretched wider than she ever thought possible, hitches her breath and Ygritte calms her with the gentlest of kisses. 

And then, as delicate as butterfly wings, she _flutters_ her fingers inside her. 

Sansa screams, she floods Ygritte’s arm, gush and wave after wave and she can hear Ygritte’s proud, joyful glee as she encourages her ( _go on, baby, there’s a good girl, my sweet girl…_ ) but mostly Sansa hears the roaring of her own blood and her own hoarse, ecstatic screams. And she doesn’t give a shit who might hear her from the street. 

“That was…” Ygritte is breathless as she kisses Sansa all over her face, holding her under the jaw with sticky fingers. “That was amazing. _You’re_ amazing. I love you, Sansa.”

Sansa is boneless, floating, and can’t respond but _oh god_ , she wants to, she wants to tell her, she opens her mouth to speak and sucks in gulping breaths and Ygritte kisses her brow, so gently. “Shh, my love. I know.” And Sansa knows she does. 

She wants to _show_ her. But she can’t move, she’s still shaking and Ygritte settles her back on the pillow. “Never mind that, Love. You’ve had quite enough for now. I’ll take care of myself.” And she does, eyes locked with Sansa’s as she spreads her own legs, pulling her jean skirt up past her hips and her pink thong to the side. Her pussy is glistening and swollen already and Sansa licks her lips and her mouth waters as she watches her gorgeous, brave, amazing girl expertly swirl her fingers over her cunt and clit and Sansa feels a lingering twitch deep inside herself, pulling long and slow without any touch at all. 

When she’s finished, Ygritte climbs up next to her, spooning her from behind, and Sansa falls asleep to Ygritte’s thumbs brushing over her belly. 

She never wants to leave this girl. Ever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where you'll start to see glimpses of other characters who may just be mentioned, may be playing a key role. For the purposes of this chapter, you only need to know that Margaery is Sansa's roommate, who is very often off with her boyfriend, Bronn :)
> 
> These snippets will be posted out of order in general, say that this is set some 6 months before the previously posted.
> 
> Also, note the tags. They're expanding :)

Ygritte is as good as her word. They are sweet and chaste in the cafeteria, walking through the quad (though they have found some delightfully private spots in the library, and of course in drama class). But when _ever_ they get a chance, Ygritte is on Sansa, hands sliding under her shirt, pulling down her panties, and indeed making Sansa calling out her name. Sansa feels like she is constantly on a hair trigger, ready to peak as soon as Ygritte touches her. 

They stay in Sansa’s room every night. Margaery is hardly ever there, of course, it’s another full week after they get back from Winterfell before Sansa sees her again. Ygritte asks her once where her roommate always is. Sansa shrugs, resettling herself next to Ygritte and drawing the blankets up over both of them in her narrow bed. It’s getting cooler later in the fall. “She has an older boyfriend. I guess she’s probably staying with him most of the time.”

“Older like twenty-five?”

Sansa grins. “Older like _thirty_ -five.”

Sansa has only been to Ygritte’s dorm room in Beacon a handful of times; her roommate is constantly there, furiously studying five subjects at once. Ygritte herself only drops in every few days to grab clothes or books. One night after dinner, Sansa stops by with her. The roommate barely looks up from her computer at them, and Ygritte rolls her eyes then goes into her wardrobe, grabbing extra clothes and odds and ends to bring back to Ellison with her. Sansa looks at Ygritte’s side of the room, sparsely decorated with one framed photo of her and her father on the bedside table. A few of her own personal books on the little bookshelf under the bed. And curiously, shoved in the back, a bow and arrow. 

Later, when they are walking through the quad back over to Sansa’s room, she asks Ygritte about it.

“Oh,” Ygritte laughs, in that way she does when she feels slightly embarrassed for having any sentiment, for anything other than Sansa. “I just always had it with me. There have been months at a time when me and my father only ate what we could hunt, and...I always feel better having it close by.” She pauses. “I miss my dad sometimes.” 

Sansa slides her hand into Ygritte’s, looping their arms around Ygritte’s middle and pulling her close. She kisses her on the cheek, and Ygritte leans into her for a second. “I’ve never been hunting. My dad used to take my brothers all the time, but never me.”

Ygritte looks at her. “Would you have wanted to go?”

“Probably not.” Sansa answers completely honestly, and Ygritte laughs, deep in her belly, the sound making Sansa smile. “But I think I might like it with you. Camping, in a tent, holding close to keep warm…” She lets her voice trail off suggestively, and Ygritte pulls her under that wide oak, pushing her back up against the trunk. No preamble, no warning, and Ygritte presses her lips to Sansa’s, opening her mouth, tongue and teeth scraping inside. Ygritte growls against her and Sansa moans. This is delicious deja vu to their first night together, but Sansa wants more now. _There is so much more._

They somehow get inside the room, with the door closed, without ripping their clothes off. But they are tripping over each other once they’re alone, closed away from the rest of the world, and Ygritte laughs as she stumbles backwards into Sansa’s desk chair and then groans when Sansa crawls into her lap. Sansa is pulling off her own shirt, fumbling behind her back with her bra (Ygritte helps her, never taking her mouth off hers), and trying to squirm out of her jeans without actually getting up. “Easy, sweet girl,” Ygritte closes her mouth over Sansa’s nipple, and tightens her teeth over it, for the briefest second, but Sansa sucks in her breath in surprise. “Easy, sweet,” Ygritte whispers again, soothing her tongue over the little nub. “Go on then, up on the bed. Panties off.”

Sansa scrambles to obey, and when she’s flat on her back, Ygritte falls on Sansa, spreading her thighs opens and licking and nibbling at her slit. Sansa is so ready, has been right on the edge since they were outside, and is moaning and pinching her nipples as Ygritte builds her peak, but then...she stops. 

Sansa opens her mouth to moan, but then Ygritte is there, licking into her mouth and Sansa keens into her, lapping at the taste of herself. Ygritte’s fingers in her pussy now, curling and pulling her higher again, thumb circling over her clit and Sansa is just beginning to quiver...but then Ygritte stops again. “Mmmm, Ygritte, _please_ ,” Sansa whines. She thrusts her hips into Ygritte’s hand, grinding herself down, and Ygritte withdraws her fingers an inch, not giving in to that friction Sansa craves.

“Not yet, sweet girl,” Ygritte presses her thumb against Sansa’s clit, not rubbing over it, not giving her any movement, and it’s still almost enough to push Sansa over the edge. Almost, but not quite.

“Why not?” Sansa’s voice is ragged and desperate in her own ears, and Ygritte kisses her again, deeply, holding her head tight. 

“Do you remember, how we were, back at your family’s house, when your mouth was on me and mine was on you?” 

The image and the memory make her go wetter yet, and Sansa groans. “Yessssss.”

“And you asked me how I finished at the same time as you.” 

It’s all too much for Sansa to process right now, Ygritte is hazy and unfocused in front of her. “Please, please fuck me, Ygritte. I...I need it, I _need_ you.”

Ygritte ignores Sansa’s begging, kisses her softly on the tip of her nose. “I’m going to teach you.”

Ygritte continues on, licking her, lovingly rubbing her to the very edge of her peak, and then pulling back just as Sansa is about to tip and fall over, soothing and praising her when Sansa whines in need, begging for release. She goes on like that for hours (or that’s how it feels to Sansa). “Poor, sweet girl, are you just aching to come now?”

Sansa nods, a strangled whine slipping out of her.

Ygritte doesn’t stop this time. She kisses her deeply, laving her tongue over Sansa’s while she uses both hands down below, swirling her fingers and pulling the climax out of her, bit by bit, drip by drip, soaring Sansa over rocky peaks, punctuated by hoarse cries and rough groans and Ygritte’s own satisfied _yes_ ’s, over and over.

Sansa lays back, her legs splayed wide open around Ygritte as she comes down, the ceiling spinning above her. “So pretty,” Ygritte is smiling as she pushes the damp hair back from Sansa’s brow. 

“What...what was the point of that?” Sansa is still having trouble getting the words out around her breath. 

“Don’t be angry, sweet girl,” Ygritte’s smile is soft, tender. Wonderstruck, looking at her. “Was it worth it in the end?”

Sansa is tempted to pout (she has, over lesser things and Ygritte has found it cute), but she can’t deny that she has never come so hard in her life. She nods, cracking a smile, turning it dreamy when Ygritte winks at her.

“I’m showing your body how to turn it off, how to stave off the orgasm,” Ygritte says, as though she’s an instructor in a course. “And when you’re ready, I’ll help you learn how to do it with your mind. Because when you can tell yourself to turn it off, you can learn how to tell yourself to turn it on.” Sansa squints her eyes in confusion and Ygritte rises up on an elbow to kiss those wrinkles away. “When your mind knows how to turn it on, you’ll be able to come whenever you want to. On command.” 

_Command._ The word is weighty, hanging in the air, and Sansa’s eyes widen when she thinks of the implication.

Ygritte is still mostly dressed, her jeans are unbuttoned and one strap of her tank top is pulled down her shoulder and Sansa follows that strap with her finger. “What about you?”

Ygritte wraps her arms around Sansa. “You rest now, sweet girl. You can take care of me later.” 

But Sansa falls asleep soon after that, Ygritte rubbing soothing circles up and down her bare back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, things are getting more interesting. Yep.

“I don’t want you to be scared,” Ygritte is whispering in her ear, holding her from behind. “If I’m wrong, just say so. No one will think less of you, sweet girl.” She kisses the back of Sansa’s neck, under her earlobe. “But if I’m not wrong, I think you could enjoy this. I know I would. But it’s all for _you_ , Sansa.”

_All for me._ Ygritte’s words fill her head, and Sansa’s breath catches when Margaery opens her robe. Margaery is _beautiful_ , that had always been apparent, all smooth skin (not a hair on her, Sansa blushes when she looks at the first bald vagina she’s ever seen, pink and slick from the shower) and lush female curves, rosy nipples pointed out and up. The very picture of a dream angel, but Margaery’s gaze is pure predator. She doesn’t need any armor, doesn’t need any sexy mask of illusion.

“I want you, Sansa,” Margaery says. “I can make you feel good, so good, baby girl.” Sansa finds she can’t speak and leans more fully into Ygritte, who is rubbing her sides up and down, making comforting _shhhh_ noises into the back of Sansa’s head. Margaery looks over Sansa’s shoulder. “You too, honey. I can take you both for a ride you’ll never forget.” 

Cool air hits her belly, and Sansa feels that Ygritte is slowly peeling her shirt up, but she pauses before she actually reveals anything. “Nothing changes with me and you, sweet girl,” Ygritte whispers against her neck, pressing soft little kisses. Sansa senses that Ygritte is waiting for her to say _yes_ , to actually get this ball rolling.

Things _are_ going to change now. All of it.

Sansa hesitates for a moment. She closes her hands over Ygritte’s arms around her, frozen. “Go on, then,” she says. Her voice is hoarse, but her hand joins Ygritte in lifting her shirt over her head.

Margaery leans back on her elbows watching Ygritte undress Sansa. Her mouth rounds into a little ‘o’ when Ygritte takes off Sansa’s bra and Sansa forces herself to not cover up with her hands. Next come the jeans and panties in one smooth pull, and Ygritte taps Sansa’s foot to lift her heels and her socks are gone, and she is just _bare_. Blushing like a ginger, Sansa pushes her hair behind her ears for the sake of something to do with her hands, and shyly peeks at Margaery with her head ducked down.

“Mmm, better than I even pictured,” Margaery drawls out, eyes taking in all of Sansa. She nods to the side, over to Ygritte. “You weren’t planning on sitting back and watching, I hope?”

“Oh no,” Ygritte sing-songs, and Sansa glances over as she’s shimmying out of her own clothes, and Sansa’s heart speeds up as Ygritte’s lovely form comes into view. Sansa knows it well at this point, all the little curves and hollows, the tickly spot under her ribs, but instead of comforting her, Sansa’s heart starts to _hammer_ with what they are about to do. Kicking her clothes into a little pile, Ygritte winks at Sansa as she rises to her feet, and takes her hand. She nods her forward. “Go on, sweet girl.” Her voice is deeper than usual, and Sansa feels a pull in herself to follow that voice. To _obey_.

Margaery pulls Sansa in by her hips, and slides her hands up Sansa’s back, catching her by the back of her hair in one smooth movement, and then she’s kissing her. It’s not like Ygritte. It’s a little bit scarier, but just as good.

And then, Ygritte is behind Sansa, kissing along the back of her neck, and Sansa can feel the tips of her nipples just brushing along her back. It’s almost too much, and she lets her head fall back, caught between Ygritte behind her and Margaery before her, kissing down the front of her chest and filling her hands with Sansa’s breasts. Margaery leans in to lick the pale pink tip of her nipple and Sansa moans. Margaery chuckles. “Mmm, so responsive. Such pretty little titties.”

“She’s _very_ sensitive here,” Ygritte’s hand joins Margaery’s, lacing their fingers together over Sansa’s breast, and Sansa groans, looking down at them. Margaery tips her chin up, with a pure devil’s grin and slides down Sansa’s body, slowly, deliberately, not breaking eye contact. Sansa gasps as Margaery parts her folds with a little flick of her tongue and her knees buckle. “Easy, sweet girl, easy, I’ve got you,” Ygritte softly croons in her ear and then Sansa is helped up and lifted onto her lofted bed. 

Sansa leans back against the wall, the cool, painted brick shocking the skin of her back like ice. “Relax, honey, I want you to enjoy this,” Margaery leans in and nips the tender skin on the inside of her pale thigh. “I intend to.” Sansa gives a little yelp and Ygritte reaches out and holds her hand, then hops up next to her on the bed. She leans in, kissing along Sansa’s neck while Margaery pulls her in, spreading her legs wide. Sansa cries out at the scrape of Margaery’s teeth agains her clit and Ygritte closes her mouth over Sansa’s to swallow her sounds. 

It’s surreal, coming against Margaery’s mouth while kissing Ygritte, and Sansa feels like she is floating in a dream, breathing hard, being made to lay down and before she realizes what is happening, Margaery is straddling over her face and Sansa rubs her cheek on the silky smoothness of her mons. She has never felt anything like it. “Feels nice, does it?” Margaery purrs above her, and Sansa can hear the cat-like smile in her words. Margaery bumps her hips, nudging Sansa’s chin. “You know what to do, pet.”

Sansa feels a little thrill, because now, she _does_. She _loves_ to lick pussy now, and if Ygritte is any judge, she is excellent at it. 

Margaery is louder and more aggressive than Ygritte, and that is just fine for Sansa. She can feel Ygritte, spreading her legs and a strange, cold feeling and...buzzing. It’s a vibrator, Sansa knows. She doesn’t know where it came from, she had never seen it before, but it is a relentless attack on her clitoris and Sansa moans into Margaery, lapping up the wetness as Margaery urges her on, she’s _right_ there. She hopes Ygritte doesn’t make her wait. After already coming for Margaery, she doesn’t have the headspace for control.

When Margaery gushes over her face, Sansa realizes that Ygritte _has_ been making her wait. She had to _earn_ it. But Ygritte smiles at her and winks when Margaery rolls off, giggling and crawling up over to Ygritte. “Your turn, ruby red,” Margaery sing songs, settling down between Ygritte’s thighs with a satisfied _mmm_.

Sansa watches them, catching her breath and lazily dragging her bedspread over herself. She has never seen Ygritte like this, what she looks like from this angle, the pleasure building on her face. She’s _breathtaking_. Sansa lays back in wonderment at how she has gotten here, from the shy girl who was dropped off by her parents just three months ago.

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot understate the importance that lifeofsnark has had in this. Yes, this might be a silly, smutty little fic, but she has encouraged me so much as a writer and just as a person, and I would be utterly lost without her. I love you, C!


End file.
